The piano, by definition, is for me an instrument for preluding.
To prelude, in other words, to witness the birth of things.
Why do I do this? Resonance. The energy that is born, instantaneously, at the precise moment when the felt of the hammer touches the string, then the diffraction of this birth in the soundboard, then, at 330 meters per second, the irradiation in the concert hall.
These three births, three preludes, explore the territories where resonance opens up songs, voices, to the pianissimo horizon of listening as well as to the solar irradiation of the high energies offered by the musician’s gesture.
The voice becomes a chorale, just as the theater of this irradiation opens up a narrative, a whole people of images, landscapes, jungles or Saharan dunes.
For me, the piano will always be an instrument that puts listening into perspective, its ability to project the most minute event into the distance, and to touch the magic and intelligence of dancing, leaping hands on the keyboard.
Poetry of silence. Poetry of fury.
Prelude 01: Omaggio Cy Twombly
Prelude 02: In memoriam Jackson Pollock
Prelude 03: Ritualis Vincent van Gogh
|Dimensions||42 × 29,7 × 0,3 cm|